


Tracing a Charge

by NightshadeMaiden



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possible cheating in future??, Questioning, Relationship Issues, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightshadeMaiden/pseuds/NightshadeMaiden
Summary: Team Rainbow had a new operator join them back in November 2019. Specialist Myla "Marten" Abenaki of the Joint Task Force 2. What she expected was a job, a new base, and terrorists to stop. However, she ended up with conflicting feelings, a confusing best friend, and his attentive girlfriend.((Author here; I have no clue where I'll be taking this story))
Relationships: Eliza "Ash" Cohen/Jordan "Thermite" Trace, Jack "Pulse" Estrada/Yumiko "Hibana" Imagawa, Jordan "Thermite" Trace/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**_November 9th, 2019_ **

Myla “Marten” Abenaki hadn’t been out of her country much, the JTF2 rarely deployed her for those types of missions. Flying around in a plane was a new experience for her, mostly. Long flights were, at least. While she loved the long hours for her reading and writing, she couldn’t help but notice how numb her butt was becoming. She used to love to sit around and read to her heart’s content, but on a 10-hour flight? Oh, how she missed her comfy couch and her fluffy blankets. At least then, she had some space to fidget. 

_ ‘You’d think after ten years of hunting, I’d be used to sitting still.’  _

She awoke to the sudden jolt of the plane landing. She blinked repeatedly, to get herself fully awake. She arched out her back and stretched out her arms, to the best of her abilities, she didn’t feel like elbowing an old woman today. 

As she stepped into the airport, she stretched out her limbs properly and cracked her back out. She lugged her way out of the building and whipped out her phone. Her hazel eyes stared at the contact. ‘H’. Her new boss, technically. She still worked for the JTF2, but for now, she supposed this new organization is her new job nowadays. She tapped ‘call’ and leaned against the cold wall of the airport, luggage seated next to her. 

The line clicked and H’s voice picked up. “Doctor Harishva Pandey speaking, who is this?” he greeted.

“Hey, Six, it’s Myla Abenaki,” she spoke up, pushing strands of her hair behind her ear. 

“Ah, please, Abenaki, it’s Harry,” Harry corrected. Some shuffling could be heard from the other end of the line, which was followed by a swift shutting of a drawer. “So, how was your flight? It wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“Oh no, my flight was fine, a little boring but most flights are,” Myla replied. “I’ve gotten off the plane just now, I just called to let you know… Oh, and to ask when my ride’s coming around?” 

Harry hummed, “I see. I did send Thermite and Pulse after you a while back, what’s the traffic like over by the airport?”

Myla tilted her phone away from her mouth and leaned forward, taking a quick glance around. The airport was crazy crowded, taxis everywhere along the side of the airport. She swore she saw a line-up near the entrance to the airport. She shifted back and pulled her phone close. “It’s pretty crowded here, what’s the car like?” she questioned.

“I believe Pulse has a black Chevy Malibu,” Harry told her. 

Myla shouldn’t have even asked, she had no idea what any models were. Hell, she didn’t even know what car she has back at home. It was black, and probably a car rather than a truck. She nodded and shifted her weight onto one leg. “Huh, alright, thanks Six-- Sorry, Harry--” she swiftly corrected, “I’ll keep an eye out. Uh, Thermite and Pulse, yes?”

“Yes, Thermite’s name is Jordan, and Pulse’s Jack, Thermite may introduce himself by his first name,” Harry informed. 

“Alright, thank you,” Myla replied, “I’ll see you later.”

“Farewell, Abenaki.”

Myla ended the call and slipped her phone into her jean pocket. She pushed herself off the wall and took a step forward, her hand gripping her suitcase. Her eyes scanned the airport parking lot, trying to find some sort of black car. There were several, some of which she eliminated based on how families were packing or unpacking the trunks with luggage. Curse her, why didn’t she learn more about cars? She exhaled and crossed her arms, her brows furrowed tightly. She didn’t even ask for a description of this ‘Thermite’ person. She waved off a taxi that stopped in front of her and the guy inside simply shrugged his shoulders and pulled up to the next person standing on the sidewalk. 

She leaned against a pole and tapped her finger on her arm as she waited. She had little clue about what to do. Did Thermite and Pulse know what she looked like? She didn’t know what they looked like. 

After a long 10 minutes, a black car drove through the entrance to the airport before turning into the parking lot. Myla had given up on standing up straight in excitement. She watched a messy brunette guy step out, eyes glued to his phone. He pushed the door closed and looked up. His eyes seemed to light up as they landed onto Myla. Alright, so it was Thermite or Pulse. She pulled herself off the pole and let the brunette jog his way towards her. 

She got a good look at him. His face was dirtied with grime and grease, some wiped in what probably was a desperate attempt to look presentable, his brunette hair was a mess but pushed to the side. “Hey, you’re… Marten, right?” he grinned. 

“Thermite?”

He gave her a quick nod and a quick playful bow. “The one and only,” he snickered. He straightened himself out. “Jack’s in the car waiting for us, we’ll get ya caught up on the way back,” he explained. He clapped his hands together and pointed at her lone suitcase. “That’s… all ya got?” 

Myla turned her head and nodded. “Mhm, not much of a big packer. Just extra uniforms, casual clothes, books, toothbrushes… The essentials,” she replied.

Jordan nodded and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. “Come on, let’s get ya outta here,” he suggested. 

Myla followed the man across the parking lot and towards a car. Another man, Myla assumed him to be the Jack Harry and Jordan were talking about, was behind the wheel, texting someone. Jordan popped the trunk and held out his hand. “Here, give your suitcase, go get cozy in the car,” he told her. He grabbed her suitcase and leaned forward, “I’d suggest behind the driver’s seat, that’s where it's warmest, Jack's car’s a little broken, as in, it’s frozen in his car at the beginning of November.”

“Ah, thanks for the suggestion,” Myla replied as Jordan swung down the trunk. She walked around the car and opened the door.

Jack finally looked up from his phone and peered into the rear-view mirror to take a good look at the Canadian. “Ah, so you’re one of the newbies,” he perked up. “Name’s Jack Estrada, you’re Myla Abenaki, right?” 

Myla nodded and clicked in her seatbelt. “Yup, that’s me,” she replied. She put her book bag to her side and flipped it open. She slipped out a book and flicked it open to where she last left off. As she read through the words, her mind wandered, letting herself get taken away by the murder mystery.  Jack seemed to notice that and looked back down at his phone. Jordan sat down next to him and shut the door. “Alright, things are packed up, time to head back,” he said as he grabbed his seatbelt. 

“Why are you so persistent to stay back at base?” Jack piped up at Jordan, “Had I known you were going to act like this, I would’ve left you to your thermite charges.”

“Well, Harry told me I had to go, y’know, be a friendly face,” Jordan replied. He noticed Jack still focused on his phone. He scoffed slightly. “Come on, quit texting, let’s go.”

Jack scoffed back, mocking Jordan. “Oh shut up, this is what you get for setting Yumiko up with me,” he replied. “Besides, I’m trying to find some ski resort. Yumi wants to go skiing this Christmas.”

Jordan nodded and waved his hand in front of Jack’s phone. “Oh, how nice, but do that later,” he said. He nodded his head over to Myla. “There’s me and then there’s the newbie that needs to head back.”

“Yeah, yeah… But you’re helping me pick a place,” Jack clicked off his phone and tossed it into an empty cup holder. He adjusted his sunglasses and turned on the ignition. He pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive off onto the streets. 

xXx

A knock against the window woke Myla up. She squinted her eyes and grumbled quietly as she pushed her head off the window, wiping a glob of drool off her lip. She slipped her thumb out of her closed book and hastily shoved it into her book bag. The door opened suddenly and Myla only let out a soft groan. 

“Jet-lagged?” Jordan piped up as he leaned over to look at Myla. “Come on, you can pass out later, Harry wants to talk with you before you get all settled in.”

Myla crawled out of Jack’s car and stepped out, swinging her book bag over her shoulder. “Yeah, he mentioned something like that. Where’s his office?” she murmured quietly as she rubbed her eyes. She blinked a few times and turned around. “Woah,” she whispered softly. 

“Big, huh?” Jordan commented, crossing his arms. “One of the bigger bases, considering how there’s at least one person from almost every Counter Terrorist Organization here,” he explained. He shut Jack’s car door, which Jack soon followed by locking his doors. He hovered his hand behind Myla’s back. “Anyways, I got your luggage, I know where your room is, I’ll lead ya to Harry’s office and boom, I can get back to my gadget testing,” he said as he led Myla inside the base. 

He walked down the halls, lugging Myla’s suitcase behind himself. 

Myla frowned and followed shortly behind. “Hey, I can take my luggage. No need for you to take it,” she spoke up. 

“Ah, nonsense. Let me be nice here,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders, “besides, I gotta head past your room while you don’t need to. Convenience.” 

She only nodded and readjusted her grip on her shoulder. Jordan came to a halt and nodded his head to a dark oak door. “Here’s Harry’s office, just give a knock, he’ll answer,” he told her. He continued to walk off, leaving Myla in front of Harry’s door. 

“Hey!” Jordan called out. He had turned around fully to face Myla. “Uh, welcome to Team Rainbow!” he properly greeted.

She couldn’t help but chuckle. She nodded and waved to Jordan. “Thank you!” she called back. 

Jordan grinned before turning around once again and disappearing around a corner.

Myla turned her attention back to the door and before she could even knock, it swung open and a man with black hair, dark brown eyes and glasses appeared. With a loose white tee and a pair of loose jeans, Myla found it obvious Harry wasn’t in any way an operator. “Ah, Specialist Abenaki, it’s good to see you,” he said, stepping aside. “Come on in.”

She stepped into Harry’s office and was welcomed into a warm and peaceful environment. Everything in the office exuded comfortability; the walls were painted a neutral brown, bookshelves were filed neatly and occasionally had a statue or two for decoration, there was a deep brown leather sofa with a loveseat beside it and a coffee table accompanying the couches and across from the small common area was a dark oak desk buried with papers and files. 

“Ah, sorry if this place is a bit of a mess, I’ve been swamped with work, you see,” Harry apologized as he walked past Myla and towards his desk. He pulled out a chair and offered it to Myla, who took the seat. He walked around and fell into his own chair. “So, how was your flight? I hope it wasn’t too terrible,” he asked. 

“Oh, my legs are numb and I’m quite jet-lagged but the flight was fine,” Myla replied. 

Harry nodded. “Well, I suppose every flight is like that,” he chuckled as he adjusted his glasses. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get a familiar face to pick you up, Specialist Côté is currently off on his own mission,” he explained. He leaned against the chair and smiled. “I hope Trace and Estrada weren’t too bad as replacements.”

“Oh no, they were fine! I fell asleep in the car anyway,” she told Harry, waving off the comment. “If anything, I was probably the bad apple.” 

“I’m sure they didn’t mind.”

Harry shuffled through the papers on his desk, shoving some into files and tucking them into his drawers. “Well, welcome to Team Rainbow. As you know, this is a combination of most counter-terrorist organizations, specifically meant to deal with the world-wide terrorist groups. I’m sure your higher-ups have told you about that before you left,” he explained. He grabbed a folder and flicked through it before pulling out a page of Myla’s information. “Now, I’ve seen your reports and missions, I must say, you’re quite excellent and your implanting tracking device is extraordinary.”

Myla could feel her cheeks heat up with the compliments. She shifted in her seat and leaned back. 

“I can tell you’ll be a great addition to Rainbow, with your gadget and skill,” he told her. He put down her folder. “Of course, you’ll still need to be trained, just to get you used to the other specialists and to make sure you can synergize with the others,” he related. “Once you get all settled in, I’ll have Montagne give you a bit of training.” 

She nodded softly, kicking her leg up onto her opposite knee. 

“Now, any questions--”

_ WHAM! _

Harry seemed to flinch at the sudden bang from his door being shoved open, he must’ve forgotten to lock his door. He pulled off his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. He pushed his glasses up and looked over to the doorway. “Yes, Cohen?” 

A redhead woman with braided hair crossed her arms and huffed, clearly ticked off about something. “Need to talk. Now,” she spoke up. 

“Another fight?”

“Unfortunately.” 

He nodded and exhaled sharply. “I see,” he looked back at Myla. “Well, I’d love to continue this talk, but I have other matters to attend to,” he told her. He stood up and Myla followed suit. They shook hands briefly. “The rooms are just down the hall when you turn right at the end of the hall,” he informed her. 

“Alright,” she replied. She began to walk out, walking past the woman who watched her intently before giving Myla a smile. Myla smiled back for a moment before she left the room. The door was swiftly slammed behind her, blasting her back with a gust of wind. She looked behind her at the door for a moment before heading down the hall. 


	2. Chapter 2

**_November 12th, 2019_ **

**_9:03 AM_ **

Myla’s eyes squinted as sunlight hovered over her eyes. She grumbled and turned over in her bed. She hurled the blanket over her shoulder and curled up into a ball for warmth. Birds chirped and sang their songs, which Myla could hear through her closed window, and they only disturbed her attempt to sleep. 

A knock at her door was the thing that seemed to do her in. She groaned and flung herself upwards, hair a knotty mess. The knock came again and she murmured under her breath. “Coming, coming…”

She slipped out of her bed and stumbled over to her door. She swung it open and grouchily stared up at the person bugging her. 

“Good morni— Jesus Christ, you planning on catching any dates with that hair?” 

“Shh, shh, shh,” Myla mumbled before she dragged her finger down Jordan’s lips. “Shush— Not so loud.”

Jordan slumped his shoulders and tilted his head a bit. He crossed his arms. “You can’t be that hungover. You had, like, 2 drinks, top.”

She dragged her feet and hushed Jordan again before collapsing on her bed. Her arms wrapped around a pillow and squeezed the non-existent life out of it. She curled up again. “Headache… can’t I skip training today?” she murmured. “Lemme have a day off or something.”

Jordan walked inside her room and shut the door. “Oh, come on, quit being like that, will you?” he said. He leaned against her dresser. “Besides, I don’t think Thatcher’s gonna like it if one of the newbies decided to get quote en quote ‘drunk’ on their second night, and then hungover the next morning,” he said. “Don’t think Doc or Monty would appreciate it either.”

Myla huffed and turned her head to look at him. “You really need to shut up sometimes,” she bluntly spoke.

“Rude. But a common complaint,” Jordan snickered. He opened her dresser and looked around. He pulled out a pair of pants and tossed them over to her. “Did you put your shirts in your closet?”

“Mhmm.”

He opened up the closet doors and saw a row of shirts, primarily of blacks, dark blues, greens and the occasional orange— no, wait, that orange was a dress. 

He plucked a navy blue shirt from the row and tossed it back, which resulted in Myla letting out a whine. “Ow… you bitch, that was my head.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.” 

Myla peeled the shirt off her head and stared at it before promptly dropping it in front of her. She whined and buried her face. “Fine,” she admitted defeat, “Get out, let me get ready for training.”

Jordan hummed. He headed out the door and shut it behind him. He waited against the wall and tapped his foot against the floor. Out of boredom, he whipped out his phone and stared at the background of him and Eliza hugging while he gave her a kiss on the cheek. That was… maybe one year ago? Sometime after New Years’. He unlocked his phone and scrolled past his pages, looking for his ‘games’ group. He pulled up some random free game he got from the  _ App Store  _ and began tapping away. 

As he played, he could see— and hear— someone waltz up to him. His head turned up from the game as he lost the level. “Oh, babe, how’s it going?”

Eliza pushed her braid onto her shoulder and sighed. “Had better mornings. Why on Earth did you need to wake up so early?” she huffed as she leaned against the wall next to him. She crossed her arm and looked at him.

Jordan chuckled and smirked. He turned to her. “Hey, I had to make your coffee, and breakfast too,” he told her. He rested his head on her shoulder, she responded by resting her head on his. 

“Breakfast, huh? I wasn’t aware  _ Pop-Tarts _ , toast and  _ Gushers _ were breakfast,” Eliza chuckled.

“They were my breakfast growing up,” Jordan clarified, “and would you really want  _ me _ in the kitchen?” 

Eliza smiled sweetly and planted a kiss on Jordan’s head. “Mm, yeah, stay out of the kitchen,” she laughed softly. Her arm snaked around Jordan’s body and squeezed him. “How’s the recruit?”

“Hungover and not wanting to train.”

“Hungover? I thought you said she had two drinks before leaving for her room?” Eliza wondered. 

Jordan shrugged his shoulder as he started up a new game. A crossword puzzle game, something he and Eliza did for fun. He shared his phone screen with Eliza and watched her connect the word “ _ Pineapple _ ” from the given letters. “She did. Probably new to drinking, or a lightweight, one of the two,” he said. “Or both.”

  
  


Eliza shrugged her shoulders. “Montagne’s not going to like it if she’s late,” she said. Jordan put in the word “ _ Pea _ ” followed by “ _ Pipe _ ”. He grumbled in disappointment as the game denied the second word. “How is ‘pipe’ not a word in this thing?” 

“It was a bonus word, Jordan, you got it the second we started this level,” Eliza reminded as she put down “ _ nipple _ ”.

“There’s no way nipple is a word—“ he scoffed out. He gently hit Eliza in the arm as the word filled itself out on the screen. “Oh, what the fuck? And you call  _ me _ immature?”

She couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping her lips as she tossed her body away from his punches. “It was literally a word in the crossword! It’s not immature, it’s called finishing the level!” she chuckled. 

“‘Finishing the level’ my ass,” he snickered as he leaned closer to Eliza. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. He peppered her cheek and jawline with soft kisses. She laughed and shook her head, trying to escape Jordan’s barrage of affection, even leaning back to the floor. He leaned over her and planted a deep kiss on her lips. Eliza giggled and cupped Jordan’s cheeks, melting away into the bliss of the kiss. They adjusted their position and Jordan pushed Eliza against the wall, with some resistance from the red haired woman. The two stopped their kiss after a while and they spent a good 30 silent seconds gazing into each other’s eyes. 

Jordan’s smile faded into a frown. He sighed and pressed his forehead against hers. “Hey, about our fight a few days ago,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“... I know,” Eliza whispered back, rubbing his cheek. “I shouldn’t have escalated it.”

The door pulled open and the two adjusted themselves. Jordan slipped his hands away from Eliza. Myla stepped out, pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail. She looked up at the two and raised a brow at their swift shuffle. “Oh, I’m sorry, was I interrupting anything?” she asked. 

Jordan cleared his throat. “What? No, not at all,” he replied, waving off Myla’s concern. He glanced over to Eliza and leaned over. His arm snaked around her waist. “Can we finish this off later? Tonight sound good?”

Eliza peeled off his arm and rolled her eyes. She shook her head with a smirk on her face. “Not a chance,” she told him. She nodded her head to Myla. “Now, get that girl to the training grounds before Montagne or Thatcher get impatient,” she said.

“Monty? Getting impatient? Never,” he snickered at the thought. “Guy’s a saint. A- a-... A giant teddy bear,” he said as Eliza walked off.

“He’s been waiting for nearly an hour!”

Jordan whined and sucked in a breath. “Oh… Yeah, let’s get going,” he told Myla as he turned around. 

  
  


xXx

**_1:45 PM_ **

The dirt kicked from underneath her as Myla collapsed onto the ground. She huffed and panted, doing her best not to suck in rocks. Sweat dripped down her forehead. Footsteps approached her from behind and a pair of heavy black boots entered her vision. She stared up at the tall, burly man that stood in front of her. 

“Not quite used to the Rainbow form of training?”

Myla peeled herself from the ground and shook her head in utter defeat. Her throat was dry and her lungs were probably about to give out. “It… It has been… two… two hours of non-stop,” she sputtered out. 

“Exercise?”

She nodded and weakly pointed at him. “That’s… that’s the word,” she murmured before collapsing back onto the dirt. 

“It’s what you get for coming so late to training,” he told her as he held out his hand. “Training isn’t normally this hard, but Thatcher determined that if you’re going to be late, you should learn of the consequences.”

Myla huffed but made no complaints. She gripped Gilles’ hand and he pulled her up onto her foot. She panted heavily. “Are we done?” she questioned. “Please?”

He gave her a soft smile and nodded. He walked off to the benches and pulled off a small towel. He tossed it over to Myla and grabbed a water bottle. “Yes, we are. I’m quite wiped out myself,” he admitted. 

She wiped away her sweat and let out a heavy sigh as her lungs finally relaxed. She plopped herself onto the bench and rested her towel on her shoulder. “So, extra long training was my punishment?” she questioned.

“For most recruits, oui.”

Myla nodded and leaned back against the brick wall. “I’m assuming it gets worse for the regular operators?” she questioned as she pushed her strands of hair out of her face. She gladly accepted the water that was offered by Gilles. He sat himself down and took a sip from his water. He let out a soft chuckle as he heard Myla sigh loudly in relief. “Refreshed?” he snickered. 

Her cheeks heated up softly out of embarrassment. “Uh, yeah,” she murmured out, “I just have a dry mouth.”

He hummed and shrugged his shoulders. “Is it from the exercise or the hangover?” he bluntly asked. 

“So you know about last night?” Myla squeaked out as she screwed the cap back onto her water bottle. 

Gilles nodded and looked over at her. He leaned his arms on his knees. “Of course, word travels fast around here. Nothing bad happened, you and Specialist.. Ts…Er… Frost, the two of you simply got a little too drunk. Even though you only had two and a half drinks.” he told her, “Are you a lightweight?”

Myla nodded sheepishly as she tugged out her ponytail. Her hair dropped down onto her shoulders and back. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t, sometimes…” she paused and shook her head. “No, I wish I wasn’t. But it keeps me away from the alcohol.” 

“Not a fan of drinking?” 

“Not at all,” she replied. Her hands fidgeted in her lap and she turned her head to Gilles. “Just all the stories of bad experiences got to me, I guess. Robbery, assaults, drunk driving… and well…”

Gilles frowned momentarily and placed his hand on her shoulder. He gave a short dip of his head. “Yeah, I understand,” he replied before slipping his hand off her shoulder. He stood up straight and stretched out his limbs. “Well, you won’t be forced to drink. In fact, it’s quite discouraged,” he told her. “Just… Stay away from the Russians on the weekends.” 

She smiled softly. “Duly noted,” she replied. “So um, may I take my leave now? Harry’s waiting for me.”

“Of course, training’s over,” he replied. 

xXx

  
  


**3:00 PM**

Myla left Harry’s office with a smile and a book tucked snugly between her arms and chest. She shut the door and headed down the hall to her room, ready to sit back and relax. She hadn’t been given any reports or tasks yet to complete, Harry told her it’d be a while til she started filling reports regularly and she was expected to start tasks in the next two days, but that wouldn’t stop her training. 

Those issues weren’t on her mind though. It was the book in her hands. Harry had given it to her to borrow. She couldn’t stop the beaming smile on her face. As she strode down the hall, she flipped out the book and admired the title page for longer than she’d like to admit. But the font and all the details on the page amazed her, she couldn’t help but stare. 

“I’m not the avid reader myself but I’m certain you gotta flip a few more pages in order to read the story.”

She let out a quick yelp and whipped her head to the side. She slammed the book shut, catching her thumb between the two hardcovers. She winced and huffed. “What the hell, Trace?” she grumbled as he chucked, enjoying himself. “Halloween was two weeks ago.”

Jordan snickered. “Oh come on, it wasn’t that scary. All I did was sneak up on you,” he replied. He leaned over her shoulder to peek at the book she was reading. She tilted the book to give him an easier time. “‘ _ When No One Is Watching _ ’... Huh, never heard of that one,” he muttered. 

“Neither have I, but Harry says it’s a mystery and it’d be up my alley,” she replied as she pressed the book against her chest again. 

“Mystery nut, huh?” he piped up as he walked beside her. “So if someone were to be murdered on base, you’d be the one to solve it?”

Myla snickered and turned her head to look at him. “Why would anyone be murdered  _ on _ base?”

“Once you’re here long enough, you’ll know… You will know,” Jordan sighed with a smile. 

She shook her head in disbelief and walked into her room. She placed the book on the one uncluttered desk in her room and sighed as she noticed all the unboxing she still hadn’t completed. She turned to one opened box and peered into it. It was half filled with her books and with one of her brother’s paintings pushed against one cardboard wall. She tugged it out and stared at it with a soft smile. 

“What’s that?”

Myla flicked her head to her door. “Oh, I thought you headed back to your own room,” she said to Jordan. She put the painting against her bed. “This? It’s just a painting from my brother.” 

Jordan pushed himself off the doorframe and walked inside. “Well, it looks nice,” he commented. He glanced around her room. “Anyway, I got some free time,” he started up again. He patted one of the closed boxes. “And I noticed how you haven’t fully unpacked yet. Soooo,” he replied, dragging out the ‘o’. 

She couldn’t stop the roll of her eyes and nodded. “Fine,” she accepted. “But be careful with any paintings, they’re gifts from my brother.” 

“Got it.”

Myla grabbed her brother’s painting again and stepped onto her bed. She had already stuck some hooks onto the wall. She carefully placed the painting onto the hooks. “Hey Trace, how does this look?” she questioned as she hopped off her bed. She turned around and backed up. “Is the painting straight?” 

She let out a soft grunt as her body collided with Jordan’s. She stumbled back and dug her nails into his shoulder for balance. He hurriedly gripped onto one box again and sighed. “Woah, watch it there,” he blurted out. He turned to the painting. He hummed and held out his hands to line them up with the painting. “Eh, yeah, that seems about right.” 

He smiled and she smiled back. “Good,” he replied, “That’s good.” 

She stepped away from Jordan and smiled. “Alright,” she said. She dug through one of the boxes again. She pulled out a few stacks of her books, she hadn’t had the faintest clue on why she packed so many, it wasn’t as if she were moving in. 

“Jesus, books on books, on books, on books, just how many books do you have, Marten?” Jordan queried with a tease as he opened another box filled with books. 

“I lost count years ago, but I do know I started collecting when I was 10 or 11,” she answered matter-of-factly. “So… about 20 years now. It’s mostly just mystery and horror.”

He let out a whistle and added the books to the poor desk covered in so many books already. He patted one book and shook his head. “You planning on moving in? Why do you need so many books?” 

“It’s an addiction!” she laughed as she stacked more books onto another desk.

“Yeah, only the weirdest addiction,” he piped up. “Hey, do I need to warn Harry of this? You’re not going to end up buried in books? Or make the entire base buried in books?” 

“Nah, I promise I’ll keep these buggers in line,” Myla waved off. She huffed and glanced around, brows furrowed down in annoyance. She rubbed her forehead and placed her hands on her hips. “Where the hell is that damn bookshelf?” 

“Oh, found it! Tucked away in this corner,” Jordan told her as he pulled out a large box from behind a few other smaller boxes. He grunted as he put it down on the floor. “This thing feels like it’s humongous.”

“Good, I need a large shelf.” Myla grabbed a box-cutting knife and sliced away at some of the tapes around the box. “Question; do you have a toolbox I could use?” she inquired as she tore open the cardboard folds on one end. 

“Yeah, totally,” he nodded. He held up the box and leaned it on her bed. “Don’t crush yourself there. Now, I’ll be back soon,” he told her as he headed out the door. 

She lugged out each part slowly and rested them on the floor. She sat next to the black pieces, nose dug in the tiny paper manual. “Ugh, for someone in the top-tier military, I don’t know how to do crap. The hell does any of this mean? How did I, of all people, manage to make the I.T.D?” she murmured to herself. 

A knock came from her door and she peered up, seeing a familiar face. Her face lightened up immediately and she bolted up from the floor. “Holy crap! Bassy!” she grinned.

Sebastian grinned back and welcomed Myla with open arms. “Hey Myla,” he greeted. He embraced her tightly and let go shortly after. He sighed out of content and leaned against the door frame. “So, how are you taking to Rainbow?” he asked. “Big change from the Joint Task Force, huh?” 

She nodded and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Absolutely,” she replied softly. “So, this is where you disappeared off to back in 2016, huh? Off saving the whole world now?”

“Tsang’s here too, but, uh, I caught word that you already know,” he chuckled and ran his hand through his hair.

Myla’s shoulders immediately slumped, “Seriously? How? Didn’t you just get back from a mission?” she whined. She turned around and headed back to her unassembled bookshelf. “What did I even do? I don’t remember!” 

“You are a lightweight.”

“Fuck, did I sing? I probably gave everyone the worst karaoke ever,” she complained as she collapsed onto the floor. 

“From what I heard, you just got noisy and may have spilled a couple of cases of beer,” Sebastian replied as he leaned against one of the desks. “So, piece of advice, avoid the Russians. For like, maybe a month?” 

He grabbed one of her books and flipped through it. “You need to quit bringing all your books everywhere. You haven’t even read this one for years,” he commented, changing the topic. “Also, don’t worry, everyone here’s already had their fair share of embarrassing drunk stories. Yours is barely considered ‘embarrassing’.” 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head softly. “You know, you give the best reassurance. If you’re worried, just stop it,” she replied sarcastically. She crawled over and snagged a book from one of the many piles. “And I did so read that book recently, I read it on the plane ride. And this one too!” she chimed in, waving around the book in her hand. 

“Oh yeah? And what about this one? Or this?” he questioned as he pulled out a few other books. 

Myla huffed. “I’m going to read those later!” she excused. She pushed herself up and tossed her book back into the pile. She managed to snag the other books from Sebastian with a lot of protest from the French-Canadian. She tossed those into the pile as well. 

“So, that’s your new bookshelf? And I’m assuming you don’t have the tools to put it together, huh?” he questioned with a raised brow. 

“Hm?” she turned her head briefly to the mess of black boards. “Oh yeah, that… Trace said he had a toolbox he could use. He’ll help me put it up.” she explained to Sebastian. She crossed her arms and let a soft exhale through her nose. 

Jordan cleared his throat and knocked his knuckles against the door, catching the attention of the two Canadians. He chuckled and held up his toolbox. “Hey, so I got my tools. I wasn’t sure what I needed, so I just brought it all,” he said. He entered and placed the metal box on the only free table. “Hey, Sebastian,” he greeted. 

“Hey Jordan,” Sebastian replied. He sighed and crossed his arms. His attention turned back to Myla. He gently patted her back. “Well, I need to go. I just got back and still need to fill in a few reports on the mission. You free for drinks sometime this weekend?” he asked. He laughed when Myla glared at him. “Drinks as in dinner, not a bar,” he clarified. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m free on Sunday,” she replied. 

Sebastian nodded and began to walk out, giving Jordan a small wave as he left the room. 

Jordan gave a wave back and turned to Myla. “A dinner date, hm?” he teased as he snatched up the manual for the bookshelf.

“Date? God no,” she immediately denied, cheeks heating up. “Bassy… He’s family, not a lover.”

“The first thing he does when he got back is head straight to you, and then asks you out,” he pointed out as he tossed the manual to Myla. He opened up the toolbox and grabbed a screwdriver. “Sounds like family to me.”

“I-... Well, I guess whenever you went out to dinner with your family, it was a double date,” she pointed out with a little more of an irritable tone. 

Jordan tossed his hands up defensively. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry.”


	3. Chapter 3

**November 17th, 2019**

**12:43 PM**

“Any word from Maverick yet?” Eliza questioned as she hovered over the table. Her eyes scanned over the map pinned to the wooden top, she read each small note of White Mask updates stuck on the table. 

Jordan shook his head. “Nothing,” he replied as he walked over to the other side. He leaned on the edge and looked up at Eliza who only hissed in annoyance. “Hey, hey, hey, babe—“

“Ash.”

“Right, Ash. Maverick’s on a mission. Specifically an undercover mission, he’s gotta be off-the-grid,” he replied. He watched her huff and shake her head. “He needs to be out of contact, Ash.”

“But he hasn’t updated us at all,” she snapped back. “It’s been three months.” 

“He’ll make contact on the 20th like you agreed. It’s only three days,” he reminded. He slid over to Eliza’s side and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a warm, safe embrace. “Babe, it’s going to be okay. Maverick’s going to come back into contact with all the information we need to bust the White Mask group in Afghanistan. It’ll just be three more days.”

Eliza pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a heavy exhale. She glanced up at the ceiling, flicking her bangs out of her eyes. Her hands held Jordan’s softly and she melted back into his hug. “I know, I know… I’m just tired of waiting…” she admitted softly. 

He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, planting a soft kiss on her neck. “I know… I’m sure everyone is,” he whispered. He smiled softly as their fingers intertwined and Eliza squeezed his hands. 

“How’s Marten?” she questioned.

“Out running some errand for Thatcher,” he answered. 

Eliza shook her head softly and let a short chuckle. “He’s running the poor girl to the ground with those pointless errands,” she commented. She nudged Jordan’s hands off her waist and slipped out from him. She grabbed some open files and slid them back into the filing cabinet. 

“Well, I suppose coming to your first training session late  _ and  _ hungover can’t be a good first impression,” he snickered as he flicked off the lamp that once lit up the map. He crossed his arms and shook his head. “Although, yeah, I guess he is overworking her a tad bit.” 

Eliza soon joined him in leaving the room and flicked off the lights. She shut the door behind them. “Thatcher’ll die down on the errand-running eventually. He’s tough on the newcomers, you know that.”

Jordan scratched his nose and stretched out his shoulders. “Hopefully he’ll give her a break sometime around 7:30,”

“Wait, why?”

“Ah, Marten’s got a little ‘friend’ date with Buck.”

Eliza raised a brow at Jordan’s air quotations. “Friend date?” she questioned, voice filled with both confusion and concern. 

He nodded and hummed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I kinda walked in on Buck asking her out for dinner a few days ago,” he explained. “When I mentioned it being a date-date, she got all defensive and said ‘Buck was like a brother’ and ‘it was just two friends going out’.” 

She nodded and turned the corner. “You know, those are a thing, but it’s called ‘hanging out’,” she clarified. “Or, since the two of them haven’t seen each other in years, it could also be called ‘catching up’.”

Jordan’s face grimaced. “Too many air quotes, babe,” he pointed out. His stomach grumbled and growled loudly. His hands clasped over his stomach. “Babe, fooood.”

“One, it’s Ash while working, and two, lunch break is in fifteen minutes, you can survive,” she replied as she parted ways with Jordan. “I’ll meet you in the lunchroom, promise!”

Jordan walked down the hall, debating on what he wanted to do. He had a free day today, well, other than training but he rushed the day and got it done in the morning. He could probably do a little more training after his break but he was certain Seamus was going to be around in the gym. He loved the big dude but the guy was distracting. 

As he turned the corner, he was pelted in the chest with a box. He let out a loud cough and grunted. 

“Crap! Sorry there, Trace.”

“Marten, what the hell?” 

Myla huffed and adjusted her grip on the box. “Hey, I said sorry, didn’t I?” she murmured. “Boom, there, I said it twice, I get to do something to you again. And for free!” she snickered. She looked down at Jordan’s leg and swung her leg back before kicking his shin hard. 

He winced in pain, sucking in a long breath through clenched teeth. “Ow, fuck!” he hissed. “God, you’re mean.” 

“Hey, I already gave my apology,” she stuck out her tongue and snickered. She walked past Jordan and headed down one hall. “Anywho, I need to head out to the back and stack these boxes in the storage room,” she explained as she walked down the hallway. 

As she walked down the hall, she constantly readjusted her grip. She hated the heavier boxes but it was better to get them done first. Easier job later with the lighter boxes and the lighter boxes didn’t get squished with the heavy ones. Although, she will admit, her arms were strained and tired from training and lugging boxes across base all morning. She just wanted the day to end. 

She heard footsteps behind her and she swiftly checked behind her. Her brows furrowed and she stared at Jordan following her, arms holding another heavy box. “What are you doing?” she questioned with a tilt of her head. 

“What does it look like? I’m helping ya,” he replied. He grunted and gently tossed the box in the air momentarily to adjust his arms. “Besides, free time.”

“How are you always free? I’m being buried in errands here.”

“Cos I ain’t new here, been here since day one of the revival of Rainbow… That and I didn’t arrive late and hungover to my first day of training.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, that happened last week and hasn’t happened since,” she whined as she hit the storage door open with her hip. She pushed her way in and walked to the back. “I have literally promised that I wouldn’t show up hungover to Montagne.”

“Ha! Someone’s desperate for a day off.” 

Myla dropped the box onto the floor and slid it against the wall. “At this point? Totally,” she replied as she stood up straight. “You’d think lugging a damn moose across a forest would give you some strength.”

“A moose? Across a forest?” Jordan repeated as he shoved his box next to hers. 

“Mhm, I used to hunt when I was younger. Did it to grab food for my kokum, and Kayden,” she clarified. “Never for sport. Only when needed.” 

Jordan leaned against one of the selves and crossed his arms. He smiled and raised a brow. “I thought you mentioned you lived in a city? Cities usually have grocery stores, why hunt?” he questioned. 

Myla tugged out her ponytail, letting her walnut brown hair collaspe onto her shoulders. She hummed and let out a snort. “My kokum hated getting grocery store meat, no matter what. All she did was complain at dinner about it. I learned that only going out and hunting would satisfy her,” she explained as she pulled back her hair again. She left her sidebangs out as she pulled her hair back into a new, tighter ponytail. “And moose, once I finally learned how to store it properly, could last us a week or two. Three, if I could find a rabbit or marten. Martens were hard to get though, always so agile and swift.” 

“Marten’s hunting her own kind, wow,” Jordan piped up with a snicker. “I believe we have a cannibal on our hands.”

Myla snorted once again and shook her head softly. “Oh my God…” she murmured. She dug through the shelf and pulled out a pack of wires and tossed it across the area at him. “Do I look like a tiny furry weasel to you?” 

“Hey!” Jordan quipped as he caught the pack of wires. He tossed it back at her and she let out a quick laugh as she kicked up her leg and turned her body. The pack of wires whacked her in the side before collapsing onto the cement floor. 

She picked it up and placed it back onto the shelf. She crossed her arms and smiled sweetly at Jordan. “Hunting for food is something I learned as a kid. My kokum was always so insistent on me and my brother learning our culture. She was a bit shocked when I took after the hunting and trapping, while Kayden went for the art and writing aspect of it. Although, the mythology intrigued us both.” 

“Your… go… ko.. Kokum?”

“Sorry, sometimes I forget that not a lot of people know the First Nations languages,” she admitted, “Kokum means ‘grandma’. Although, it’s Cree and not Ojibwe. Mama just said it was easier for little me to remember. It’s better than Nookomis for a four year old..” 

He only nodded slowly, following along with the conversation. “Huh, and you just call your mom in English?”

“Yeah, my mama wasn’t taught much of Ojibwe culture,” she added. She crossed her arms and slid down onto the floor. “My kokum was still terrified of teaching it back then with what happened.”

“What happened?” he questioned.

“You don’t know?”

Jordan shook his head and slid down onto the floor again. “No, American schools barely touch on Canadian history.”

Myla nodded and took a small sigh. She shook her head. “This’ll be brief, it’s a hard and long subject to explain but, there were these things called residential schools years ago. They took away any aboriginal children from their families for years and forced them to learn English, and Christianity,” she explained. “If kids spoke their language or did anything that the school deemed inappropriate, they were beaten and abused by the teachers. Many families lost their kids to those schools… It was a cultural massacre. And now, Aboriginal culture is dying. Canada did apologize, but some survivors say that is hardly enough. But they are thankful Canada publicly announced and owned up to their mistakes.”

A hand on her leg jolted her back to reality. She looked up at Jordan, sniffling. “Hey, Myla, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay.” he told her. 

A tear dropped onto her lap, which brought that fact she was crying to her attention. She sniffled and wiped her tears away. “Sorry, sorry… I just… My kokum, she still cries herself to sleep some nights…” she murmured. 

Jordan frowned and walked over to her side. He sighed and squeezed her hand. “Hey… You said it was a dying language, right?” he quietly spoke. Myla nodded and kicked her legs up. She gently squeezed back. “What… What if you taught me some parts of the language?” he requested. 

Her head whipped upwards and she looked up at him in shock. “What?.. You really mean it?” she questioned with a hope-filled voice. 

He chuckled. “I mean, I’ve never been good with learning languages, but yeah! I mean, I’m just one person but it can’t hurt to try- Oh!”

Arms wrapped around his neck swiftly and tightly, pulling him into a strong bear hug. Myla squeezed him and couldn’t stop the huge gleaming smile on her face. He chuckled and hugged her back. “Ok, I guess that’s a yes,” he replied.

He rubbed her back and smiled softly. He let out a soft groan as she squished his shoulders. He tapped her back lightly and she let go immediately. “Sorry, sorry!” she apologized. She rubbed his shoulders before placing them into her lap. She giggled nervously. “Just… Nobody’s really shown much interest in my language and culture before,” she explained. “I’d love to teach you someday.”

“What the bloody hell is goin’ on?” Mike questioned as he entered the storage room. “Abenaki, it shouldn’t take you this long to--”

Jordan and Myla whipped their heads to the door. “Thatcher! I’m sorry I just got distracted!” she blurted out. She stood up straight and wiped down her pants. She rushed past Mike, head down in shame. Jordan pushed himself up and wiped down his own uniform. Mike stared at him before shaking his head. “Quit distracting the new recruits Thermite,” he lectured.

“You should let loose on all the errands, Thatcher,” Jordan said. “You’ve made her do more errands this week than some of the operators have done in months. Hell, some of the other recruits are getting more free time than the specialists at this point.” He walked forward and shut the door, trapping the older operator in the room. He frowned and sighed as Mike’s expression turned to one of an irritated expression. “Alright, she made a mistake, I get it. But she hasn’t made one since,” he stated.

“Are we goin’ to ignore her slackin’ off just now?” Mike questioned. 

He left out exhale and his shoulders downturned. He shook his head. “Come on, Mike, that was all me. Blame that crap on me, I distracted her,” he clarified. 

Mike stared over at the area where Jordan and Myla once sat. He looked back over at Jordan and jabbed a finger in the American’s chest. “As I said, don’t distract the recruits. Let them work, get used to this. Then when they get more free time, you can keep ‘em for longer periods of times,” he stated. 

The older operator shoved away Thermite’s arm from the door and pushed out of the room. 

  
  


xXx

**7:00 PM**

Myla peered into her closet filled with all her shirts. She huffed and flicked through each one, debating on which to use for the night. Most of her shirts had been changed from colourful to plain dark blues, browns and blacks, with the occasional grey. Regardless, she managed to find a somewhat fancy black shirt. She tossed it onto her bed and closed her closet doors. Then came her pants, which were an easy pick. All she had were pairs and pairs of jeans, all blues and blacks because she had very little variation in her taste of fashion. 

Getting dressed was one thing, her hair was another. Sure, it was healthy, smooth and silky but styling it always stumped her. Letting it down was always an option, and so was leaving it in her ponytail. She also had the option to put it in a braid. Letting out a quick sigh, she pulled out the elastic band and tossed it onto her dresser. She ran her fingers through her hair, shaking up her long locks of her deep brown hair. 

With a turn of her upper body, she checked the actual length of her hair. It stopped just midway down her back and she let out a huff. While she definitely loved the idea that she managed to keep such long hair so healthy, she never quite liked having lengthy hair. All the regulations in the military slightly ruined that for her.

“Knock, knock,” Jordan announced as he opened Myla’s door. A snicker escaped his lips as he saw Myla all dressed up. “Well, look at you… And you call it a friend date.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. She grabbed her hairbrush and began to brush through her hair, untangling any knots in the process. “What do you want, Trace?” she asked.

He looked down at the folder gripped tightly in his hand. He walked over and gently tossed it onto her desk. “Eh, just got finished with your device eval,” he informed her. He slipped past Myla and plopped himself onto her bed. “I gotta say, the thing’s a beauty. An ass to get out of the test dummies though…” 

He heard a small and short laugh from Myla. “That’s the point, the ITD shoves the tracking device deep into the body and displaces it from where it was injected. Prevents people from removing the device easily after it’s been implanted,” she explained, “Although, the Joint Task Force did find someone with their entire shoulder nearly carved out. Poor guy nearly killed himself trying to remove the device when he found he was being tracked.” 

“That desperate, huh?”

“Mhmm…” Myla murmured as she put away her brush. She pushed her hair behind her back and grabbed some lip gloss. 

“It’s a little bulky, and the needle could be a little slimmer,” Jordan critiqued. He leaned back on his forearms, watching the woman get ready. “But I’m sure you can just head to Mira about that.” 

“Mira, Mira, Mira… That’s the woman that was fixing those ballistic shields a few days ago, right?” she piped up as she dug through her closet again, looking for a pair of shoes that  _ weren’t _ dirtied up from work. She pulled out some ankle-length platformers and fell onto her bed alongside Jordan.

Jordan nodded and watched her zip up her boots. He watched her tie up the decorative laces, his face etched with concern. “Damn, you actually wear those things?” he questioned.

Myla only nodded and switched to her other boot. “Yeah, they’re a pain in the ass but hey, at least they can pull a look together, right?” she said, kicking out her leg when she finished up tying the shoelace, showing the black boots off. She giggled and kicked her leg over her knee. “Anything else you wanted, Trace?”

“Jordan.”

“Hm?”

He sat himself up fully and rested his arms on his knees. “It’s Jordan,” he repeated. “No need to be all professional,” he added. He gave her a warm smile and nudged her in the shoulder. “I mean, look around, a lot of the operators aren’t very professional outside of missions. So, why start? Plus, you’re teaching me your language, right? That’s gotta have us more than co-workers,” he explained. 

His smile grew brighter as he watched a small smile form on the Canadian’s lips. There was something sweet about her smile. He couldn’t place his finger on what exactly though. “So, I’m Jordan Trace, and you’re now Myla… I still got no damn clue on how to say your last name.”

“Abenaki, Ah-Beh-Na-Keh,” she clarified with a chuckle, breaking up her surname with syllables. 

A knock at the door brought their attention away from each other. “Coming!” she called out as she pushed herself off her bed. She walked across the room and opened the door. “Oh! Bas, is it really that time?” she asked as she whipped her head around to check her alarm clock. 7:16. Ok, so a little early still. That made her anxiety die down, she had actually thought she was running late. 

“No, not at all,” Sebastien replied. “I just wanted to come early, spend some extra time with you.”

“Oh! I see, well, I guess come on in,” she offered as she stepped to the side. He walked in and came to a halt as he saw an American on her sheets. The two men stared at each other for a good thirty seconds, which felt like hours for Sebastien and somehow, felt like days for Jordan. “Oh, you already have… company,” he spoke up.

“No, no!” Jordan replied immediately. He shot up from the bed subconsciously. He gave a quick nervous chuckle and pointed to the file on Myla’s dresser. “I just stopped by to give her her device evaluation,” he excused. A cheap and weak excuse, but it was at least true. He turned his head to Myla. “Uh, I’ll be heading out now,” he said. He began to walk out of the room, brushing against Sebastien who seemed to give a soft grunt in response. “Have fun on your date, you two.”

The door was slammed shut behind the two and Myla flinched. She looked up at Sebastien. “I-- uh, don’t know what got into him. He just stopped by to drop off the report and wanted to talk about… Huh, I don’t know. We went off-topic,” she explained in a hushed murmur. 

Sebastien turned his head away from the door. “Whatever it was, I’m sure he can tell you later,” he suggested. He held out his forearm like a gentleman, “When we return.”

Myla laughed sweetly and wrapped her arm around his. The two-headed out the door, Sebastien flicking off the lights and Myla shutting the door behind him. 

xXx

Sebastien had taken Myla to a fancy restaurant which only made Myla feel underdressed. Maybe she should’ve spent some time styling her hair, instead of leaving it down. She took a quick glance around, everybody was dressed up in some sort of way. Dresses, tuxes, or at least some sort of fancy shirt and pants. Everything just exuded “high-class”. 

A waitress flipped through her reservations book and let out a gleeful hum. “Aha, here you two are!” she wrote down swiftly in her book. She turned around and plucked two menus from behind her stand. She stepped out from her stand. “Come follow me, I’ll have you two seated.”

The two followed the waitress to the back of the restaurant. Myla looked up at Sebastien, her smile barely hiding her nervousness. “This place is crazy fancy, and looks expensive,” she pointed out. “You didn’t spend a crap ton on this, did you?”

“It’s… semi-expensive,” Sebastien answered, shrugging his shoulders, “It’s no McDonalds, at least.”

“Hey, I like McDonald's.”

“We can find a McDonald's next time,” he suggested. 

The waitress stopped at a small table and placed down the menus in front of each chair. She pulled out the chairs for the both of them, allowing each of them to seat themselves. “Here you two are, anything I can start you off with?” she asked. 

“I’ll have an iced tea,” Myla responded as she flipped the menu over and quickly skimmed over the drink options. 

“I’ll just have a beer,” Sebastien answered as well. 

The waitress nodded and wrote down their drinks before heading off into the kitchen. Myla watched the blonde woman disappear before she turned to Sebastien. She held out her hand. “Keys,” she demanded.

He hummed and nodded, knowing the protocol. He shuffled through his pants pockets and pulled out his car keys. He plopped the keys into the palm of her hand and she pushed the keys into her jean pockets. “No drunk driving, I know, I know,” he said.

“Absolutely not,” she instantly replied as she flicked through the menu. Chicken, steaks, burgers, pizzas, lasagna, salads, fries, biscuits, mozzarella sticks, onion rings, the list went on and on. But still, she knew her choice immediately. 

Sebastien glanced up from his own menu, eyebrows raised and a smug smirk on his lips. He made eye contact with Myla, already knowing what she wants. “Well?” he teased, dragging on the word. She giggled and shook her head. He joined in on her chuckle, she still remained the same after all those years apart. 

“I think I’ll just have the chicken fingers-- Well, I guess they’re called tenders here-- and a caesar salad,” she finally shared.

Sebastien let out a chortle. “Will you ever decide to switch things up?” 

“Keep talking and I’m going to ask for chicken nuggets with kids’ fries,” she threatened playfully. 

He cackled and browsed through the menu, debating on what he wanted himself. While a medium-rare steak sounded delicious to him, he wasn’t up for a steak tonight. His eyes flicked over to the picture of a steaming pepperoni pizza. God, a pizza sounded amazing. But his thoughts were interrupted by the waitress who slid their drinks onto the table. He placed his menu down temporarily. 

“Here you go, one beer and an iced tea,” the waitress spoke, “Are you two ready to order?”

“I’ll have the chicken tenders with a caesar salad, no croutons,” Myla ordered. She glanced over at Sebastien, seeing the man ogle the pizza picture with a watering mouth, like a dog staring at a treat. She rolled her eyes and let out a quiet snicker. She turned her attention to the waitress. “He’ll have a medium pepperoni pizza, bacon on one side. Add in some fries, gravy on the side.”

Sebastien flicked his head up in shock, gawking at Myla, his jaw loose. She only reached over and shut his mouth for him, The woman hummed and nodded, jotting down each order. “Of course, anything else?”

“Uh, could I have mozzarella sticks and strawberry salsa as appetizers?” the Canadian asked.

The waitress nodded and took their menus. She stepped away from the two and headed off to snag a few other orders from the other tables where groups and couples had recently been seated. 

“A medium pizza? What if I didn’t want one?” Sebastien immediately questioned. “And what’s with all the damn food?”

“Uh, one, you were staring at the picture of the pizza for a while,” Myla shot back with a smug smirk. She leaned forward on the table and took a long sip of her iced tea, eyes glued to the other Canadian. He shrugged his shoulders, eventually admitting to himself that she was correct. “And two, I’m starving. I haven’t had anything to eat since my break at, like, I think 12.”

“Your mozzarella sticks, ma’am,” another waiter spoke as he slid over the appetizers onto the table. “And your strawberry salsa.” 

“Oh, that was quick! Thank you!” 

The waiter bowed his head and walked off to hand out the rest of the appetizers to other tables. Myla wasted little time in snatching up a mozzarella stick and biting into it. She let out a satisfied hum as she watched the hot cheese leave a drooping string between her bite and the rest of the mozzarella stick. She swallowed the mozzarella stick and beamed a gleeful smile. “Mm, new batch, nice and warm,” she stated. She picked another one up and handed it to her date.  _ No, not date _ , she denied. “Here, take one,” she offered. 

Sebastien shook his hand and leaned back into his chair. “Hm, oh no, I’m already going to be eating a lot of cheese with my pizza. And plus, beer, I’m not throwing up in front of you,” he excused. 

She shrugged her shoulders and finished off her own mozzarella stick. “Alright, but just remember, I witnessed much worse than puking from you,” she commented as she tried out the strawberry salsa with a tortilla chip. She continued to snack on the appetizers quickly, eating them faster than she probably should’ve. But she was starving, Thatcher had just barely let her go for the day. Overworked, tired, thirsty and hungry was not a good mix for a dinner out. 

A loud laugh from Sebastien caused Myla to snap out of her daze. He snorted a bit and shook his head. “Oh God… Remember back to 2014? When I was first designing the Skeleton Key?” he piped up. “Right in the balls too…” he muttered before he sipped on his beer. 

Myla snorted and cackled as the memory of the first trial run of the Skeleton Key. “Oh God, yeah… That thing just flew right off your gun,” she recalled. “That… Was just a sad, sad day for you, huh? Probably lost a few children there.”

“You were the last person I’d expect to say that,” Sebastien commented. He shook his head. “But yeah, probably lost a few kids that day.” He gulped down his beer and rested his arms on the table. “So, what was JTF2 like after I left for Rainbow?” he asked curiously. 

Myla finished off another mozzarella stick and wiped her mouth with a napkin. She hummed and tilted her head in thought. She and Sebastien were hardly ever stationed together in the same base, but it was always the same three bases. And after Sebastien had left for Team Rainbow, she definitely could see some sort of difference. “Well, after you left, the higher-ups were definitely pissed one of their best soldiers had been transferred out of the blue, I don’t think they were ever informed why though or to where, because all they did for the next few days was demand answers,” she told Sebastien. “And, things were a little off, those higher-ups loved calling on you to provide examples or to deploy you on any missions. It took them awhile to fully realize you weren’t there to do their bidding.”

“You make it seem like I was their slave,” he butted in with a sigh. 

She let out a quick sigh, although it definitely seemed more like a chuckle. “Were you not, though?” She finished off her mozzarella sticks and pushed them to the side as she brought the bowl of salsa towards her along with the small plastic basket of tortilla chips. 

Sebastien tilted his head with a short hum, shrugging his shoulders. “Occasionally,” he admitted with a grumble of his voice. He took a sip of his beer once again. 

Silence overcame the two shortly afterwards. Myla had even started to chew slowly, trying not to make much noise. She was left confused. The two had become such good friends back then, they connected so well some people joked about them and told them they were joined at the hip. Hell, Myla probably could’ve seen them getting together had Sebastien not left with no-contact. Three contactless years wouldn’t have ruined something like that, could it?... Ah, that’s right… Myla had moved on. And seeing Sebastien again undid everything she had done to do so. She was in conflict with herself. 

Sebastien cleared his throat, ruining the break of silence and snapping Myla back to reality. He sighed and frowned. “Hey, listen, I know I cut contact years ago,” he spoke up. “I hated it, you know? But I just got busy with all of Rainbow’s tasks, and then, I ended up forgetting about you…” 

Those words stung Myla right in the heart. “Ouch,” she winced as she shook her head. 

“Sorry, that sounded shitty,” he replied, “Well, it was shitty but I was saying that my mind just started to focus on other things…” 

Myla only nodded softly. She pushed away the salsa and stacked the plates together to make it easier on the waitress when she came around to pick it up. She sighed and pushed her bangs out of the way. “... Things have changed, haven’t they?” she murmured, depression heavy in her tone, “I remember when we used to talk for hours.” 

“We just… need to reconnect a little longer, right?” Sebastien spoke up. His hand reached over and grasped hers, his thumb rubbing her smooth tanned skin. She seemed to flinch at the contact and he froze for a moment, worried he had come on a little too strong for her liking. When she didn’t remove her hand from his grip, he went back to gently rubbing the top of her hand. “Maybe another dinner, or at least another night together.” 

Myla nodded slowly. “Yeah,” she replied softly. Her hand drew away from Sebastien’s as she caught wind of the waitress coming around with his pizza and her chicken tenders. 

  
  


xXx

  
  


Myla pulled up to the Hereford base parking lot. She glanced over to Sebastien in the passenger seat, leaning against the window. The ride was eerily silent, Sebastien wasn’t much of a talker when he was buzzed. She turned to him and nudged him softly. “Hey, we’re here buddy,” she said as she pushed the seatbelt open. She turned off the engine and took out the keys. She slipped out of the car and Sebastien sloppily followed suit. He lugged himself out and stumbled a bit. 

Myla rolled her eyes and grabbed Sebastien’s hand. She wrapped his arm over her shoulder. “Come here, big guy,” she led him to one of the entrances and dug through her pockets for the keycard. She stopped when Sebastien swiped his own keycard and pushed the door open for the two. “Oh, well, thanks, Bassy.”

She walked through the halls and stopped at her room. She pushed Sebastien off her shoulder and grabbed her keys for the room. “This night was fun,” she admitted with a quick laugh. He joined her in her laugh. As she was trying to unlock the room, the French-Canadian pulled the door shut. “Uh… Bassy, that’s my room,” she pointed out, “And I’m also very tired.”

“I liked tonight… Going out with you, just chatting and getting to know you, again,” he confessed randomly. He leaned in close to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. 

She left out a snort and shrugged her shoulders. “And so did I,” she told him. “Actually you said that multiple times tonight. Did you sneak a few more beers when I was in the washroom?” she questioned jokingly. 

“I like you, Myla,” he blurted out as he let go of the doorknob. He stared at her brunette hair, admiring her face from what he could see through gaps of her hair. His hand snaked up her back and pushed her hair out of the way. He could see her face turn a small tint of red. 

“And I like you too, Bassy--”

Before Myla could even think, her head was turned to the side and lips were smashed onto hers. She let out a shocked hum into the rough kiss, blinking a few times to fully process what the hell was happening. Sebastien Cote was kissing her. Like-- Mouth on mouth kissing her. Kissing her. She let her eyes shut close and she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting Sebastien deepen the kiss. 

The kiss was short-lived as Myla pulled away, prying Sebastien’s hands off her hips. “Well, I’m about to pass out here, I need to get some sleep,” she excused as she stepped away from a now sulking Sebastien. “Good night, Bassy,” she said before slipping into her room.

She shut the door behind her and flipped the lock. She stared at her floor with wide eyes, as everything finally slapped her in the face. She slid to the ground and felt her chest physically shake with anxiety. 

Jordan was right.

Sebastien did take her out on a date. And actually kissed her.

…

Now the question was; did she like him back?


End file.
